Page 105 of Wild Flower

I look at my sister and there are tears in her eyes.

“I broke your trust,” I say to Becca. “And if that means I lose you, then I have to live with that. But—”

“You didn’t lose me,” Becca says softly.

I frown at her. “You—”

“I asked for space,” Becca interrupts, her voice gaining confidence. “I needed to process what happened. You lied to me, and then we made love, and that felt like a betrayal to Finn. And on top of that you saidyouhad cancer.” Her voice thins out again, and I know what a punch in the gut the C-word is. “I was angry and terrified, Archer, but you didn’t lose me.”

“W-what are you saying?”

Becca smiles, a glassiness in her eyes. “You didn’t lose me,” she repeats, reaching into her purse and pulling out her phone. She flips through it for a moment, before turning it to face me. “And I don’t think you’ll ever lose me after this.”

A video starts playing on the device. It’s a fuzzy video of me through a screen door. I squint, not understanding, until I hear some of the audio. It’s from earlier today at the Laurel house. The angle is over her mother’s shoulder and you can hear me talking about how amazing I think Becca is, how madly in love with her I am.

“How?” I stare at her confused.

“My father sent it to me,” she says, and I realize he must’ve been listening the whole time. No, he was recording it.

“I meant every word of that,” I manage, and Becca gives me a smile.

“I know.”

And then she gets up and walks around the table, dropping herself in my lap. She pushes my long hair from my face and runs her thumbs across my cheekbones.

“I love you, too, Archer. I accept your apology,” she says. “But don’t ever lie to me about cancer again. Finn and I are coming to all of your appointments from now on, because none of us are running away from this. Got it?”

I stare at her in awe, and when she kisses me, I swear someone throws flaming cinnamon at us, because sparks fly everywhere. Heck, my sister even whistles.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper between kisses. “I love you.”

“Holy shit, get a room!” The signature voice of my boss echoes across the patio, and we separate as Arie struts up holding two flaming cocktails. “How many times do I have to tell you, no hanky-panky at work.”

“We’re not working,” I point out, as Arie places the drinks on our table. “Plus, we’re giving that billboard some authenticity. You should be praising us!” I nod to some of the patrons at nearby tables with their phones out.

“In that case,” Arie turns to Finn, “get in there cowboy and give your adoring masses a taste of the sin they came in expecting.”

Finn laughs. “You’re not my pimp.”

“But I could be,” Arie sasses. “I’m a regular matchmaker over here, armed with fire and alcohol.”

“Matchmakers and pimps aren’t the same thing,” Finn points out.

“In your world, Finn,” Arie quips. “Now, who is this?” She turns her attention to my sister Valeria and starts pointing out features. “Gorgeous black hair, suspiciously familiar nose. Archer? Do you have a twin that you never told me about? Because, hello, I have a twin, and there’s a code when you meet someone else who understands the joy of sharing chromosomes.”

“I’m a year older,” Val interjects. “He’s my brother, not my twin.”

“Not sure I’m buying that,” Arie replies, looking my sister over again. “Have you ever considered waiting tables? Ever use a brûlée gun before? Do you like setting things on fire?”

“You are not giving my sister a job,” I say to Arie as Becca snuggles against my chest.

“Why not?” Arie throws back. “There’s a certain hotness factor that’s required, and I hired you, didn’t I?”

“A questionable decision,” I toss back.

“Oh trust me, the female version of Archer,” Arie points at Val, “is ten times hotter.”

“Thank you?” Val says, not sure if she should take that compliment.

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